


On the road to safe (I kinda tripped along the way)

by FanMomMer



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 02, Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jealousy, Olicity endgame, Romance, Tommy Merlyn is Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanMomMer/pseuds/FanMomMer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After The Undertaking (which Tommy luckily survived), Oliver and Laurel are working on a relationship together, and Felicity and Tommy have struck up an easy, close friendship. So why can't Oliver stop thinking about his blonde IT girl/partner/Girl Friday? And what happens when jealousy rears its head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab fic that Callistawolf and I started about a month ago. Just a little AU season 2, for fun. The entire thing is completed, and chapters will be added daily. Hope you enjoy!

She sighed and rolled her shoulders, shaking her head back and forth slowly to loosen the tightness brought on by staring at a screen. The mission was over and she knew Oliver and Digg would be back soon. In the meantime, she savored the few minutes she had alone to reflect. 

Looking around, she was proud of all the changes she had made to the we-don’t-call-it-a-lair in the two months since the Undertaking. She was also proud of all the good they continued to do, as a team, helping the city with its criminal element. Of course, sometimes their not-a-lair was a bit more crowded these days, what with Tommy coming down to hang out, or Laurel stopping in to see her boyfriend. 

After Oliver had saved her the night that Malcolm had destroyed The Glades, and she had learned who he really was, Oliver and Laurel had committed to a relationship together. And that didn’t bother Felicity at all. Nope. Not one bit. She was completely happy as his friend, partner in crime fighting, and now Executive Assistant to his CEO. Okay, so she hadn’t originally been so happy at that last change, but she understood his reasoning, and they were making it work. And she was completely, totally, 100% fine with it. 

Really.

The beeping of the electronic lock startled her from her thoughts. Turning with a small smile, she expected to see Oliver and Digg descending the stairs. Instead, she was greeted by a grinning Tommy, with a bottle of Pinot Grigio and two glasses in his hands. A wave of happiness accompanied this realization. Felicity was always happy to see Tommy, especially these days. With Oliver busy with Laurel, she could use an extra friend.

“I’d say you deserve a drink after the night I’m sure you’ve had,” he said as he approached her desk, setting down the glasses and starting to pour. 

Felicity had been surprised by how easily she’d fallen into friendship with Tommy Merlyn. After the Undertaking, he’d been withdrawn and unpleasant. On more than one occasion, Felicity had found him after hours upstairs, nursing a glass of scotch and looking miserable. She started joining him, making light and easy banter at first, just to draw him out of his shell. Eventually, he’d begun to open up to her, that he was still in love with Laurel and feeling painfully jealous of her relationship with Oliver. Since then, they’d become each other’s shoulder to lean on, knowing sometimes without even asking when the other needed a little cheering up. 

It just made sense. Their easy friendship and comfort with one another had become one of the best parts of her day, nearly every day. Always there with a smile, a drink, a laugh. She knew he was hurting, watching Oliver and Laurel together, and she also knew it helped him to focus on other things-- other people-- like her. It was a two-way street, if she ever gave in enough to admit it to herself. Which she didn’t, hardly ever. But Tommy just seemed to know about her feelings for Oliver without them ever talking about it. He didn’t pressure her about it, which she appreciated. And so this unspoken understanding between them had morphed into a solid, strong friendship. 

As she sipped her glass of wine and listened to Tommy talk about the drunken antics of clubgoers upstairs, she heard the lock again and briefly glanced up to the stairs. This time she did see Oliver and Digg, and allowed herself a small exhale of relief that they were back home safely. Turning back to Tommy’s story, and her wine, she focused on the easy conversation and the upbeat tone in his voice. She heard Digg call out a greeting to her as he made his way to the bathroom, and she felt rather than saw Oliver set his quiver down before coming up behind her. She tried not to startle as his hand rested lightly on her shoulder. Glancing up at him, she was a bit perturbed to be met with an unreadable expression in his eyes and a tense jaw. 

“Everything good here?” he asked her, gruffly. She nodded. What bee had flown into his bonnet? Was he angry with her for some reason?

“All good, I’ll probably head out soon,” she responded, starting the process of shutting down her computers. 

As Tommy started to rise and offered to see her home, they once again heard the sound of the electronic lock beeping. Not for the first time, Felicity thought to herself that too many people knew how to get down to their supposedly secret base. This time, the trio watched as Laurel descended the stairs, stopping briefly as her eyes swept over the three of them. 

Felicity was still sitting in her chair, Tommy stood next to her with his leg lightly brushing hers, and Oliver stood behind her, his hand still resting on her shoulder. She realized how this might look in the other woman’s eyes. After all, both of them had been or were currently involved with her. Upon Laurel’s hesitation, Felicity stood quickly, stumbling. Both men reached to steady her, but Tommy, thankfully, got to her first. Putting his hands to her waist, he waited as she righted herself, and she murmured a quiet thanks at him, flashing him a quick, appreciative smile. 

“Well!” Tommy exclaimed brightly, while he looked between Laurel and Oliver, “I’m going to make sure Ms. Smoak here gets home in one piece.” 

Laurel nodded, finishing her descent, and Felicity gathered her things, purposely avoiding looking at Oliver. She could sense Laurel’s displeasure, and she wanted nothing more at that moment than to flee to the safety of her couch. She threw out a muttered goodbye at the couple and headed to the stairs, with Tommy right behind her, hand hovering at the small of her back.

“See you tomorrow morning,” Oliver called, a strange tone in his voice. Felicity didn’t turn towards him, though she wanted to, and instead just nodded quickly as she continued to climb the stairs. She laughed softly as Tommy made a joke about getting the hell out of dodge, and then they were safely on the other side of the door. 

\------------------------

Oliver watched Tommy and Felicity climb the stairs and continued to stare long after they’d disappeared on the other side of the door. He didn’t know what to think of the odd, twisting sensation he felt in his chest whenever he watched the two of them together. He should be happy that Tommy was still talking to him at all, given that he’d basically stolen Laurel right out from underneath him. Still, their friendship had taken a hit and while they were talking, they were far from being the close friends they were before. 

And it was just like Felicity to see that Tommy was maybe feeling a little left out and be a friend to him. Oliver knew, logically, that’s what she was doing. Still, coming back from the patrol and seeing the two of them smiling at one another made him want to rush over and separate them. 

The fact was, he didn’t have all of Felicity’s attention when Tommy was around. Before the Undertaking, her eyes had always been on him. While he was working out on the salmon ladder or sparring with Diggle, he knew she watched him. Truthfully, he’d always rather enjoyed it. But there’d been a shift between all of them the night of the Undertaking. 

Turning his attention away from the stairs and his thoughts about his blonde partner, he looked to Laurel, who was watching him with a crease between her brows. 

“Hi,” he said lightly, leaning down to offer her a chaste kiss on her lips. “What’s wrong?” 

He watched as Laurel’s eyes darted to the stairs, and then back at him. He knew Laurel wasn’t Felicity’s biggest fan. Or rather, that Laurel wasn’t the biggest fan of his relationship with Felicity. Friendship, he reminded himself. His friendship with Felicity. He understood why; before the island Oliver had never been the sort of man who had women as friends. What he had was a reputation for cheating on his girlfriend. Her hesitance around Felicity made sense, given that history. He’d tried to show her how much he’d changed since those days but Oliver got the feeling that whenever Laurel looked at him, she saw Ollie. The problem was, he wasn’t Ollie anymore. 

Oliver watched her shake her head, as if to rid herself of bad thoughts. Only then did she offer him a smile in return.

“Nothing. Want to get changed so we can head out?” she asked, as Diggle returned from the bathroom, dressed back in his street clothes. 

“Sure, just give me a few minutes.” 

He passed Digg on his way to the back, clapping a hand down on the other man’s shoulder for a minute, nodding his goodnight. As he washed his face and hands, he tried not to dwell on his tumultuous feelings regarding Felicity and Tommy hanging out together. They were just friends, that was all. He pushed away any thought that if there was anyone who was less likely to have a woman as a friend besides himself, it was Tommy Merlyn. 

Instead, Oliver focused on Laurel, waiting for him in the other room. Without any more secrets between them, their relationship was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to make sense, and be right. So why couldn’t he get his mind off of a babbling blonde with glasses?

\---------------------------------

"Do you want something to drink?" Felicity asked as she entered her darkened apartment with Tommy, switching on the light by the entrance. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come in with her at night to watch TV or talk. 

"How about some more wine?" he grumbled. 

Felicity knew it had been tough for him to see Laurel and Oliver together, so she took pity and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and glasses. Coming back out she saw that he had settled on her couch, leaning back and kicking his legs up on the coffee table. He shot her a sly grin as she approached and nudged his feet. 

"Hey buddy, feet off the furniture while wearing shoes," she lightly admonished, setting down the glasses and the bottle. He took over from there, all of this a familiar routine between them. 

This ritual, this exchange, was one they had gone through countless times over the last couple months. A shared bottle of wine, easy conversation, sometimes a movie or something off her overflowing DVR. Now and then there were also light touches, hands resting on thighs, trailing up arms. It had a mild flirty tone to it, but so far that’s all it was. Two friends, enjoying each other’s company, and the hint of maybe. 

The maybe didn’t trouble her as much as probably should have. She knew Tommy’s reputation rivaled that of Oliver’s before the island. But she also knew he’d grown up a lot in the years since those days. He was still charming as hell and Felicity didn’t think she was particularly immune to that charm. Maybe she didn’t want to be immune. Sometimes, she wondered if he’d ever make a move. 

Or maybe it’d just been way too long since she’d been on a date. 

Tommy handed her a glass as she tucked her feet up under her. After taking a long sip, she focused her attention on his handsome face. The smile he directed at her was a poor attempt to mask the pain she could clearly see behind his eyes. 

“You okay?” she asked, giving him the opening to talk about it or not.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sighed. “Let’s not do this tonight, huh? What do you have for us to watch?” 

Accepting that he needed to focus his attention elsewhere, she flipped on the TV and settled on a comedy game show that wouldn’t require them to pay too much attention. She leaned back against the sofa cushions as his arm looped across the back and over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. They stayed there, comfortably, her head resting on his shoulder, his fingers trailing up and down her arm. It was easy, and uncomplicated by deep emotion. It just - was.

And that was more than fine with her.

\------------------------------

Across town, Oliver followed Laurel into her apartment. He had spent the car ride reminding himself that he finally had what he’d wanted since he was first stuck on that god forsaken island. He had Laurel back in his life and back in his bed and he was honoring his father’s last wishes with the best team he could have ever hoped to have. 

So then why didn’t he feel as content as he knew he should?

During the ride home, he had held Laurel’s hand and watched her face as she told him about the case she was working on. And yet, he could tell something was off. Not with her, she was doing great and thriving at her new position as an assistant to the District Attorney. No, there was something off between them and he couldn’t quite pin down what it was. 

Oliver loved Laurel. He had loved Laurel for as long as he could remember. But since they had gotten back together after the Undertaking, it just felt….forced. Their conversations, more often than not, were stilted. There wasn’t much laughter, or ease. At first he’d thought it was his own lingering issues in the aftermath of his fight with Tommy’s father. Then, he’d worried that maybe she wasn’t as okay as she said she was with him being the Hood. But she’d assured him that she was fine with it and that she was proud of the mission he’d set forth upon. So what was it then? 

He found himself, far too often, drifting to thoughts of another. Wondering where she was, who she was with (and trying to ignore the tightening in his chest at the idea that she was with anyone). Lately, he’d even begun to worry that perhaps she was falling for Tommy. They were spending an awful lot of time together. At first he’d been relieved; if she was with Tommy then she wasn’t dating some chump from QC or something. But then he remembered his best friend’s slick and easy charm and he began to worry that the two of them were perhaps getting too close. 

Oliver shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. He looked up to notice Laurel watching him carefully, and he realized that he was still standing by the open door. He shot her a rueful smile as he closed and locked it.

“Sorry, just, distracted,” he offered, approaching her with a smile. 

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he leaned in to kiss her. He felt her give herself into the kiss, winding her arms around his waist. He deepened the contact, and slowly started to guide them backwards towards her bedroom. With this, their physical relationship, he felt comfortable. He knew how to navigate this. This - this was easy, familiar, and didn’t require thought. He allowed his mind to clear as Laurel acquiesced to his unspoken demands, and for now, in these moments, he wasn’t plagued by a litany of emotions - not the least of which was an ever-present sense of unsettlement and guilt. 

Later, as he lay awake in her bed with Laurel sleeping next to him, his thoughts ran over the next day. He knew he had a busy day ahead at Queen Consolidated, meetings, conference calls, and paperwork to complete. While he didn’t love being a CEO and the inevitable fakeness that came with it, he was proud of carrying on his family’s legacy. And it didn’t hurt that he had help from a brilliant, loyal woman. As his thoughts turned to her, he found his anxiety ebbing and his heart rate slowing. He also started to feel….wait, was that? Yes. He was excited to get to work tomorrow, to be greeted by her smile and to hand her the cup of coffee he always got for her on the way in. With the promise of seeing Felicity in the morning, he finally drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The response to this has blown me (Mer) away! I am so grateful and humbled by all the comments. I also need to continue to thank Callistawolf for being amazing and holding my hand through my first big fic writing experience. She's the best, guys. Hopefully this chapter meets everyone's expectations. The next chapter is a really fun one, too, and it should be up sometime tomorrow! Enjoy!

Felicity glanced up from her computer as the elevator dinged, signaling Oliver’s arrival at the office. She was equal parts excited and nervous to see him. Well, that probably wasn’t accurate. Felicity was always happy to see Oliver, even if it was here at Queen Consolidated. At first she had been livid, livid, when he had unceremoniously ‘promoted’ her to the role as his Executive Assistant (and she had shown him just how livid she was by steadfastly refusing to ever, ever bring him coffee, and violently destroying their coffee machine). It hadn’t taken her long to calm down and she had tackled the role with the same dedication and commitment she gave every task. That is to say, she was damn good at it. And, of course, they worked well with one another.

All that said, Felicity wasn’t sure what to expect from him after his odd behavior at the Foundry the night before. She was relieved, then, when he stepped off the elevator with two cups of coffee and a genuine smile. He stopped at her desk, placing her coffee down in front of her and leaning forward. 

“Good morning,” he said, smile widening slightly as Felicity took a long, appreciative sip of the drink he had brought her, prepared as usual, just the way she liked it. She’d never asked him to bring her coffee, he’d just started doing it, shortly after he’d promoted her and she’d thrown her little coffee-related fit. 

“Good morning,” she returned, smiling back at him, “and thank you.” She tilted the cup at him in acknowledgment. “You have a busy morning, and only 15 minutes before your conference call with Russia.” She said as she stood, taking the necessary paperwork with her as she rounded her desk and led him into his office. 

Organizing his paperwork into appropriate piles on his desk, she started briefing him on the specifics of his upcoming call. He listened intently as he settled at his desk, picking up the papers and sifting through them as she spoke. As she finished her rundown, she perched on the edge of the desk and reached forward to pluck an errant thread off his suit jacket. Patting the spot to smooth imaginary wrinkles, she looked up to catch him watching her, an intent look on his face. Flushing, she pulled her hand back.

“Sorry,” she began. “I just, have a thing. You know. About lint and fluff and threads and stuff. And I know you like to look your best, which is silly really for a conference call because they can’t even see you but-”

“Felicity.” He cut her off with a gentle tone and amused smile. “It’s fine, thank you.” 

As if on cue, the phone rang both at his desk and hers. Jumping up, Felicity reached across to answer with the standard “Mr. Queen’s office, please hold.” Placing the phone on hold she waved a hand at him as if to say ‘show time’, and hurried back to her desk, where she once again picked up the phone and made the necessary introductions. 

After transferring the call to him, she looked up through the glass walls and caught his eye. He smiled at her again (was it her imagination or was he smiling a lot this morning?). She tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach, one that she was long since familiar with in his presence, and she gave a soft smile and head tilt back, before refocusing on her own work.

An hour later Felicity jumped when the intercom on her desk broke her concentration.

“Felicity?” Oliver’s voice came through, and she instinctively looked up at his desk again, only to find him watching her, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Can you come in here for a minute?” He half shrugged as she watched him. “Please?” he added.

Sighing, Felicity just nodded. Standing, she smoothed her dress and headed towards Oliver. As she approached, she noticed he looked….nervous? That wasn’t right. Oliver didn’t get nervous. Especially not around her. She sat in the chair across the desk from him, crossing her legs and laying her hands in her lap.

“What’s up, boss?” she teased lightly, hoping to ease whatever was making him apprehensive. 

“Um. Uh. So…” Oliver started, and Felicity couldn’t help but smile at his obvious unease with whatever he had to tell her. “There’s an issue. In Coast City. And we’re going to need to take a trip out there to check on things.” Oliver rushed through the words, jumbling them all together in his apparent hurry to get them out.

Felicity blinked at him. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Trying once more, she realized she, for once, had no idea what to say. Tilting her head to the side, she took a deep breath.

“We?” Oh boy. Was that her voice? Why did it sound so high-pitched and squeaky? She cleared her throat. “We?” she tried again. That was….better. Sort of. “Wha-why? I mean. We?” What the hell, Smoak. The word “we” shouldn’t be so complicated. To her despair, Oliver didn’t look amused, as he usually did when her brain short-circuited. He looked - well, he looked pained. His brows were creased and his lips were pursed. If the idea of going on a trip with her was so damn unappealing, why was he even suggesting it? Oh, and now she was getting angry. Angry was good. Anger she could handle. She knew anger.

“I can’t.” She said firmly. His eyes flew to hers, widening in shock. Before he could speak, she continued. “I’m sorry, Oliver. There’s only so far this -” she gestured around her and then between them, “goes. I accepted that I need to be your EA, so that you can have me nearby if we need to discuss our other work. I accepted that. And I accepted that with that there will be rumors,” she scoffed as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Yes, Oliver. Rumors. About us. A no-name blonde from IT is hand-picked by the Oliver Queen to be his EA out of nowhere. There are rumors. There are whispers. About how and why exactly I got chosen for this position. And which positions in particular I used in order to get this one. So, no. I can not go on a trip with you. Because I have a tiny bit of dignity left, and I intend to keep it.” With that, she rose to her feet and stalked off, not looking back. She didn’t stop at her desk but continued to the elevator, aggressively pushing the button over and over as hot, angry tears sprung to her eyes.

“Felicity.” She heard his soft voice behind her. Felt him approaching. But still she didn’t turn. As the tears escaped of their own accord to run down her face, she squeezed her eyes shut and then felt him grip her elbow and slowly turn her towards him. After a moment, she opened her eyes and nearly slammed them shut again at the clear and apparent concern she found staring back at her.

\--------------------------------------------

Oliver had felt lighter somehow as he ascended the elevator to his QC office. With each floor that passed it felt as though his burdens were being divested one by one. When the doors slid open to his executive floor his mouth moved seemingly of its own accord, curling into a smile as he approached Felicity's desk. He watched her watch him as he moved towards her, the hand holding her cup of coffee reaching out to settle it in front of her. Was it his imagination, or did she look a bit uncertain? 

As she took a long sip of her coffee he breathed in, and his smile widened as her eyes slid shut for a moment in appreciation of the morning boost. She really was beautiful, he thought. And then, immediately, he wondered where that thought had come from and why it had seemed so natural. When she opened her eyes and smiled, thanking him, he could only continue to stare. He was grateful when she started rambling about his schedule for the day, and gladly followed her lead into his office. He went about settling himself in, situating himself at his desk and picking up the papers with the information he needed for his upcoming conference call. It was only when she absently reached forward to pluck something off his jacket that he stopped what he was doing and focused on her face. She was mid-ramble, and she didn’t seem to realize she was engaged in such an intimate, familiar gesture. He saw the moment she did realize, and her eyes slowly raised to his. Quickly, she drew back, her face flushing to an adorable shade of pink.

He halted her next ramble with a soft “Felicity,” and thanked her for, as always, looking out for him. He held her gaze for a long moment, wanting to reach across and touch her hand. And then the ringing phone interrupted the moment and the day began.

An hour later, after spending the conference call alternating between watching her through the glass walls and getting increasingly frustrated with the information he was hearing, he sat back at his desk, trying to figure out why his stomach was in knots over the decision he had come to. He knew he had to go to Coast City. And he knew he needed her to come. She knew more about the project than he did, and he truly needed his EA, her, with him there. So why was he so nervous? Gathering his nerve, because really what was he nervous about? he buzzed her and asked her to come into his office.

After delivering the information, he sat in shocked silence as she went from confused and speechless to angry in a matter of seconds. He listened to her explode about rumors as it slowly dawned on him. Of course he had seen the glances and heard snippets of whispering, but he hadn’t paid any attention. Why should he? He wasn’t the one who was being underestimated, whose reputation was being butchered. How could he have been so insensitive? This amazing woman had given him SO MUCH, and he had taken and taken and taken without a thought for how it impacted her. And then she was rushing out of his office and to the elevator and he had to stop her. He had to apologize and fix this. 

He hurried after her and as he approached he saw her shoulders heaving. He said her name and when she didn’t respond he cupped her elbow and turned her towards him. His heart lurched at the tears running down her face and the tightly closed eyes. He had done this. He had hurt her. And then she opened her eyes and looked at him and he knew he had to do something. Say something. Anything to get rid of the anger and hurt swirling beneath the tears. 

“Felicity,” he paused, grappling with the right words to convey what he was thinking, feeling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have been...selfish, inconsiderate, insensitive,” he smiled just a teeny bit at her huff. “I didn’t think about how this was affecting you. And I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart.” He looked into her eyes intently, hoping she could see just how sincere he was in his remorse. At her nod, he continued. “I will do whatever I can to make this easier for you. I promise.” He took a deep breath. “But…” He watched as she shut her eyes again, and he took a deep breath. “But. I’m sorry, I really am, but I need you to come with me to Coast City. We can travel separately if you like, whatever makes this less conspicuous. But I need my EA. I need YOU there. You know this project better than I do, better than anyone. I need your expertise, your advice. I can’t do this without you.” His words were heartfelt and meaningful, and he truly hoped they conveyed what he needed them to. He stopped, and waited. 

Slowly, she nodded and opened her eyes. Gently removing her arm from his grasp, she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. She stepped away from him, and he tried not to focus on how cold he felt. She turned slightly, wrapping her arms around her waist. She nodded again.

“I’ll make the arrangements.” She said softly. And with that, she turned her back to him and went to her desk, not making eye contact again. With a heavy sigh and a sinking feeling in his stomach, he went back to his own desk and sat heavily in his chair. 

And to think, the day had started so well. 

A few hours later, Oliver was ready to tear his hair out. Felicity hadn’t spoken to him all morning long. A short while ago he’d gotten an email from her, detailing their travel itinerary but she hadn’t even so much as met his eyes through the glass that separated their offices. By all outward appearances, she seemed fine, unbothered. She worked diligently at her computer, answered calls and passed them through to his desk and took care of all her duties without so much as a grimace or a pout. 

But Oliver could tell. She was still upset. And he didn’t know what he could do about it.

A little after noon, Laurel arrived to go to lunch with him. She paused just inside the door to his office and looked at him curiously. Then, she glanced over her shoulder to where Felicity was typing away at her keyboard. Then… back at him. She came further into his office and then turned and closed the glass door very purposefully. Felicity never looked up. 

“What’s going on?” she asked him. 

Oliver tore his eyes away from Felicity and tried to affect what he hoped was an innocent expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I walk in here and it’s like Siberia. Did you two have a fight?” Laurel crossed to his desk and stopped before it, her arms crossed over her navy blazer. 

Oliver cleared his throat and gestured for Laurel to have a seat. She did, but didn’t take her eyes off of him. “It’s nothing. Just some QC related business. We’re fine, I promise.”

Laurel pursed her lips and looked back towards Felicity for a moment. “You know, I feel I’m pretty tolerant… being your girlfriend and all. I hear the rumors and while I know the true nature of your relationship with her, it doesn’t erase that everyone in this company and half the people in Starling City think you’re sleeping with her.”

Apparently, today was the day that those rumors came back to haunt him. He sighed deeply.

“You know it’s not true, Laurel.”

“Do I?” she asked, her voice brittle. Then she paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter that it’s not true, Ollie. They’re still saying it and I still have to hear it.” He tried not to wince at her use of his old nickname. 

“I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?” He was starting to feel more than a little aggravated. 

Laurel sighed. “Nothing. What can you do? It’s just me being a little… insecure, I guess.” She stood up and he did as well, ready to leave for lunch with her. At her admission of insecurity, a wave of guilt had washed over him. 

She’d just reached the office door when she stopped and turned, tracing her fingers down his tie. “How about you make it up to me by taking me out to dinner tomorrow night? Then we can spend the whole weekend in bed and shut out the world. Remember when we used to do that?”

This time, Oliver did wince. “Actually, I can’t.”

Laurel’s face fell. “Why not?”

“I have to go out of town tomorrow, on business. I couldn’t avoid it. I’ll be gone until Monday evening.”

“Oh.”

Might as well rip the bandaid off all at once. “And you should probably know that I need Felicity to go with me. I don’t want you to hear that from anyone else.”

Laurel stiffened and glanced through the glass wall at Felicity again. He could practically see the wall of ice descending behind her eyes as she turned her hazel gaze back on him. “You’ll be traveling together? Staying at a hotel? Spending the weekend together?”

“Laurel… yes. But you know its just for business. You know that we’re just friends.” He hated the pleading tone in his voice. 

She cleared her throat. “I also know what I see with my own eyes, Ollie.”

He stepped back. “What does that mean?”

“It means I see the way you look at her and the way you’re always seeking her attention, especially at the Foundry. And it’s not just one sided, she looks at you too. I just don’t know if I can trust you alone with her all weekend long.”

That hurt. Oliver knew that she was thinking back to when he’d been a cheating asshole and while he couldn’t blame her for expecting him to do it again, he wished she could see him as he was now. However, he also couldn’t deny that what she had said was true. He did look at Felicity, often. More often than he should, probably. He also couldn’t help but linger on Laurel’s observation that Felicity looked at him, too. He shook his head. 

“Can we just go to lunch and we can talk about this?” he said, more than ready to put this disastrous morning behind him once and for all. 

But Laurel set her jaw and her eyes cooled even more as she regarded him. “Actually, I think my plans have changed, Ollie. I’m busy today. I’ll see you when you’re back from your little trip. Give me a call.”

She turned on her heel and strode out of his office, letting the glass door bang open as she went. Felicity’s head snapped up at the noise and she watched with wide eyes as Laurel stalked to the elevators. Then she looked back at him, the first time she’d looked at him all morning. 

But the fight had gone out of him entirely and he didn’t want to try to explain to her what had just happened with Laurel. Oliver simply pulled a thin smile at her before turning and walking back to his desk. Maybe he’d call up for a sandwich delivery for lunch instead. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Felicity sighed as she removed clothes from her dresser to stack into the suitcase on the edge of her bed. She really wasn’t looking forward to this trip, and that bothered her. She missed the ease she and Oliver had developed with each other, the comfort and closeness they had worked towards over the months. Sure, there were occasional moments of it here and there, lately. But more often things were tense, and uncomfortable. Especially when Laurel was around. Felicity sighed again as she thought of the other woman. She was aware of Laurel’s dislike for her, and she really wasn’t sure what to do about it. The whole thing was just….awkward. And Felicity hated it.

“It’s not fair!” she all but whined. From his spot where he lay in the middle of her bed, casually flipping through his phone amidst her decorative pillows, Tommy looked up and arched an eyebrow at her.

“What’s not fair, my bodacious blonde friend?” She huffed out a small laugh and plopped down at the edge of the bed.

“This trip. The entire thing. Once again Oliver doesn’t ask, just makes a decision for me. Half of QC already thinks I got the job on my knees and the other half will now, too. I don’t want to go.” She pouted. Tommy’s other eyebrow met the first and he looked at her knowingly.

“Are you sure that’s the reason you don’t want to go?” Felicity’s eyes flew to his and she set her jaw. This was not something they talked about. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” She responded flatly. He nodded.

“Right. Of course. Your displeasure over this trip has absolutely nothing to do with being nervous to be alone, with Oliver, in a hotel for the weekend. Nothing at all.” Felicity just stared at him, so he continued. “Come on, Smoak. You know as well as anyone that things have been weird between the two of you. The way he looks at you with that mixture of pain and longing, the way he tries to get your attention when it’s elsewhere...” At Felicity’s quick headshake he narrowed his eyes. “Felicity. Everyone sees it. Everyone. Digg, me. Laurel.” He said the last name with emphasis. 

Felicity sighed, again. Because yeah. She knew what Tommy was talking about. She wasn’t blind, or an idiot. The long glances, the shoulder touches, these were things that had started before. Things that had hinted to her that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one with feelings. But then The Undertaking had happened, and Oliver had run to Laurel, leaving her alone in The Foundry until Digg could get to her. And then Oliver and Laurel were back together and she had expected all that other stuff to come to a screeching halt. And it had. For a little. But somewhere along the line it had started again, and she tried not to dwell on the fact that it had definitely picked up in frequency when she had started spending time with Tommy. 

Oliver was with Laurel. It was what he had always wanted. So why was he still gazing at her with that look in his eyes? Why did he make sure to stick especially close to her whenever Tommy was around? Felicity flopped back on the bed next to Tommy, dramatically throwing her arm over her eyes. 

“It’s not fair!” She said again. Tommy laughed and looped an arm around her, pulling her into his side. She snuggled in and rested her head on his chest.

“Don’t worry so much, Felicity. Just close the door to your room, order up an obscenely expensive bottle of wine on the company card, draw yourself a bath and ignore the stubborn, pig-headed elephant in the next room. You’ll be fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's have some fun, shall we? A business trip, close quarters, and a nightcap lead to some interesting dynamics.

“What do you MEAN we only have ONE ROOM?” Felicity knew she was using her scariest Loud Voice (capital L capital V) on the front desk attendant, but this was just completely unacceptable. “I have our confirmation right here, and it clearly says two rooms. TWO!” She was vaguely aware of Oliver, next to her, trying to diffuse the situation, but her attention was focused on the sheepish-looking hotel employee across from her.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I really am. There was a mix-up and we are fully booked and unfortunately we only have the one room -” 

“Fine!” Felicity cut the other woman off. “We’ll just find another hotel, then.”

“Felicity.” She turned to Oliver with a huff. “We can’t, remember? You had a hard enough time getting us in here, because of the conference in town this weekend.” Oliver threw what looked like an apologetic smile at the hotel employee. “The one room will be fine, thank you.” Turning back to Felicity, he reached forward, as if to put a hand on her shoulder, but dropped it when she stepped back from him. She was in no mood for his stuff right now. This already difficult endeavor was shaping up to be wholly disastrous.Turning back to the front desk, she put out her hand.

“Fine. Two keys, please.” She snapped, resigned to the knowledge that she had pissed someone off in a past life. There was no other explanation for why this was happening to her. She tried to be a good person. She recycled, usually. She gave money to charity. She helped a damn vigilante clean up crime in her city. Obviously some past incarnation of her hadn’t been as thoughtful and giving. She accepted the keys and turned on her heel, stalking towards the elevator bank with her suitcase trailing behind her. She didn’t wait for Oliver to catch up before punching the button and stepping through the elevator doors. Oliver and his suitcase slid through just before the doors closed. She kept her eyes forward and arms crossed as the elevator climbed, and even when she heard him shift his weight and sigh, she still didn’t look at him. 

When the doors opened, she walked through them quickly, turning down the long hallway and watching the room numbers before arriving at theirs. With another sigh, she slid the key in the door and walked into the room, bracing herself as if she was preparing for the worst. Glancing around the room, she noticed the one king-sized bed _because of course the room only had one bed this was her life after all_ , the small table and chairs in the corner by the window, and the doorway to what must be the bathroom on her left. 

She heard Oliver clear his throat behind her, and she finally turned to look at him. 

"I’ll call down and see if they can bring up a cot." He offered. She nodded, moving further into the room and perching on the edge of the bed, as Oliver walked past her to the phone. She was vaguely aware of him calling down to the front desk, and heard his displeasure with whatever their response was. Bracing herself again, she looked up at him as he came to stand in front of her. 

"Apparently, they are so booked that there are no cots available." He said softly, clearly concerned with how she would react. His apprehension finally broke through her frustration and she shook her head. This was Oliver. Her friend. They often spent close to 18 hours a day together. Hanging on to this frustration and anger would only make a tough situation even more difficult for both of them. So with a small smile she stood up and moved to the dresser with her suitcase. 

"It's fine," she said sincerely, throwing what she hoped was a reassuring smile in his direction. "It's just a couple nights. No big deal." The words were completely contrary to the tight feeling in her chest.

"I'll just grab a couple pillows and the extra blanket from the closet and I can sleep on the floor." He was already moving to the closet as he spoke. She shook her head, hard.

“Absolutely not.” She said, firmly. His eyes snapped to hers. “No way, Oliver. I’m not having you sleep on the floor in one of the nicest hotels in Coast City, especially when you’re the one paying. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a huge bed. We are both adults. We’re friends. It’s no big deal.” She repeated her earlier assurance. “And if anyone is going to sleep on the floor, it would be me. Since, you know, you’re paying and all.” She felt herself starting to ramble, as the realization of what she was suggesting started to dawn on her. “I mean, how bad can the floor be, right? I’ve heard it’s actually really good for your back and this carpet looks really soft so -”

“Felicity.” He cut her off, his eyes alight with amusement and the corners of his mouth twitching. This. This was familiar. This was her and Oliver, with rambling, and smiles. “We’ll share the bed. You’re right, no big deal.”

She snapped her mouth shut and nodded, as the butterflies in her stomach hit her with full force. Was it her imagination, or had his eyes darkened slightly when he glanced between her and the bed? Moreover, was she excited that they had? 

Ohhh boy. What had she gotten herself into?

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was low in the sky when Oliver and Felicity returned to the hotel later that day. It’d been a day full of meetings, reviewing the ins and outs of a cross-national project that Oliver should really know more about. He was now completely certain that bringing Felicity along was the right decision. There was no way he could have gotten through it without her there. She really did know the business better than he did. Perhaps he should be her EA. She never ceased to amaze him with her ability to not only balance, but excel at everything she did. 

He was tired, but not exhausted. He could tell by the way Felicity bounced on the balls of her feet at the elevators that she felt the same. They needed to unwind and they deserved it after their long day. The prospect of being back in their room, trying to avoid one another, seemed vastly unappealing. He looked around and spotted the hotel bar out of the corner of his eye. He tapped Felicity on her shoulder. 

“Why don’t we get a drink before we head up?” he suggested. “I think we’ve earned it.”

Felicity nibbled her lip in a most distracting manner, looking towards the bar. The elevator doors opened and she stepped back. Then, she turned a small smile on him. “Sure, let’s do that.”

The bar was not unlike any other hotel bar Oliver had ever visited, though a little upscale given the hotel was upscale as well. A piano player was set up in one corner, serenading the patrons. A long, polished bar stretched the length of one wall and the other walls were lined with cozy, private booths. A few tables littered the center of the room. Oliver steered Felicity towards one of the booths with a hand at the small of her back. 

She sat and scooted in until she was seated at the back of the booth. “What would you like?” he asked her. 

“Wine. Red, please.” 

He ordered from the bar and once he had her wine in one hand and his scotch in the other, he headed back to the booth. 

Oliver slid across the smooth burgundy colored leather until he was sitting next to her, placing the wine glass in front of her. 

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing for it right away and taking a long drink. He did he same with his scotch, enjoying the burn down his throat. 

“You did really great today,” he told her. 

“I just told them all what they needed to hear. I don’t think they were expecting to hear it from me, though.” Her lips twisted a little ruefully at that. “EAs don’t get involved in the business like that, typically.”

“That’ll teach them to underestimate you in the future, won’t it?” She ducked her head and he could see a faint blush on her cheeks at his praise. “I’m very glad you came with me on this trip. I couldn’t handle this on my own.”

“I don’t think you should underestimate yourself either, you know. You have a passion for your family’s legacy. That drives you.”

It warmed him to know that she’d noticed that. 

As they drank, they talked. At first, they just went over the meetings, rehashing what had gone right and what hadn’t and why. Then, as they worked on their second drink, the topic shifted towards more trivial things. 

During a moment of comfortable silence as the pair sipped their (third? fourth? he was losing track) drinks, Oliver watched as Felicity's bright pink lipstick left a stain on her wine glass. His gaze moved to her lips and he was mystified as to how the lipstick appeared still perfect, despite the transfer to the glass. 

“I like that color,” he murmured, watching her eyes fly to his first in confusion, then surprise. “It's very....you.” Her smile was wide and uninhibited, clearly the result of the alcohol moving through her. 

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, this time towards him, and he felt as her leg brushed against his. The contact sent a spark through him, which caught him off guard. He hadn’t had such an immediate and noticeable response to anyone in...well, a while. Instead of shifting away, as he knew he should, he shifted just a millimeter closer to her, just barely increasing the pressure of his thigh against hers. He watched her for her reaction, pleased when she seemed to also shift just a tiny bit in his direction. Her fingers played with the stem of her wine glass and her eyes were a bit glossy as she took in the room and the people around her. He was unabashedly watching her, and for once he didn’t care who noticed. 

He was surprised then, when she suddenly laughed out loud and then clapped a hand over her mouth, turning to him. Her eyes were dancing with laughter, as she leaned close to him and tried to discretely point across the bar.

“Look,” she stage whispered, her mouth really really close to his ear. “Over there. Oh my god, that guy is TOTALLY hitting on that woman at the bar. And just look how uninterested she is. Oh, this is good.” 

While Oliver was more than a little amused at her obvious delight watching the scene unfold, he was more focused on how her hand was now resting high on his thigh, almost every part of their bodies touching, from shoulders down to feet. He knew that, if not for the alcohol, Felicity would be flying away from him the moment she realized just how close they were. So he allowed himself to enjoy this moment, this feeling, despite knowing that he was very much toeing a dangerous line. 

The alcohol was affecting him too. If not for the warmth of his scotch burning through his blood, he wouldn’t find himself shifting even closer to her, increasing the pressure of his leg against hers just a bit. Just enough so that he could feel the warmth of her leg through the fabric of his trousers. With his breath caught, he waited for her reaction. 

Outwardly, Felicity didn’t react. She took another sip of her wine, her eyes still on the couple at the bar, but then… he felt her leg press back against his. The slightest of pressure but it sent his blood pumping through his body as effectively as though she’d palmed him through his trousers. Shit, when was the last time he’d been this affected by such an innocent touch? Probably never. 

“Do you see them?” she asked, turning her eyes back to him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she’d first laughed out loud. 

Still, Oliver nodded. “I do. Clearly, he’s not very good at reading the signs of attraction.”

Felicity’s eyes darkened just a bit, her pupils dilating. She sipped again at her wine and Oliver allowed himself to focus on how her lips wrapped around the edge of her glass. What’s more, he allowed her to notice him watching her. She swallowed and he followed the movement of her throat as she did so. Then, she smiled. It wasn’t the curt, polite smile he’d seen all day. This was a more open smile, less shy and more… promising. 

_Oliver, what are you doing?_ The chastising voice in his head sounded so far away. Meanwhile, he could very clearly smell her perfume, light and floral. His impulses were clamoring to take over. He wanted to press his nose into her neck, to see where she’d placed the scent and breathe it in. 

“That’s very true,” she murmured, her voice low. Her blue eyes glittered in the low light. “When a girl is interested, she knows how to make it obvious. With her time, her attention, her body…”

Felicity trailed off and the suggestion was clear. But Oliver blamed his fourth (fifth?) scotch for the way his thoughts immediately turned towards her friendship with Tommy. Maybe she wasn’t referring to Oliver at all. Maybe she meant to imply she was interested in Tommy. The thought had the scotch he’d drank sitting like a stone weight in his stomach. 

“So is that what’s happening with you and Tommy?” he asked, trying so very hard to keep his voice light and teasing. “What’s up with you two? Are you just friends? Or…?”

“Or?” Felicity’s left eyebrow raised and her lips curved. “What are you asking, Oliver? If Tommy and I fool around?”

The image sprung to his mind, quick and unwanted. He saw Tommy drawing Felicity into an embrace, both of them smiling at each other before Tommy leans down to brush his lips over Felicity’s… 

Oliver shook himself mentally, willing the image away. _What the hell?_ Why did the thought of his best friend kissing Felicity make him want to go find someone to drive an arrow through? It shouldn’t be a concern of his whether or not the two of them started seeing each other. And yet… 

“Maybe I am,” he answered her. “Are you? I mean, are you guys dating?” How he managed to keep his voice level and light, he’d never know. He took a sip of his scotch, hoping to further sell his casual interest. 

Oliver was alarmed to see Felicity’s eyes turn warm. A glint appeared as she smiled and nudged his leg with hers again. “No, silly. We’re not.” He breathed a sigh of relief and then she continued, “Not yet at least. I mean, who knows. He’s pretty charming. I wouldn’t say no.”

Shit. That was not what he was hoping to hear. And why the hell was she grinning at him like that? He watched as her grin widened, and then morphed into a smirk that, _fuck him_ , was sexy as hell. 

“Nothing wrong with a little no-strings sex between friends, right?” she said wickedly. His brain short-circuited. 

“What?!” _What?!_ What the hell had she just said? Was this - was this really Felicity, his Felicity, all sunshine and light and awkward rambles? Was she _propositioning_ him? No. No way. Was she talking about Tommy? He didn’t know which idea was more frightening. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Uhhhh.” Yeah, real smooth Queen. Get it together. He was used to gorgeous, sexy women throwing themselves at him, making all kinds of innuendos. So why the hell were his palms clammy and his heart racing like a horny teenager? Before he could figure out how the fuck to respond to that, Felicity’s eyes were once again drawn to the bar and she giggled.

“Oh oh, looks like he finally got the hint,” she said. Huh? What was she talking about? Who got what - oh, right. The overeager guy and the disinterested woman she had been watching. So that’s how she wanted to play it? Like nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all, meanwhile he wasn’t sure his brain was ever going to catch up to what had just transpired. Well. Two could play at that game, he thought with an evil smirk. He allowed himself a brief moment to imagine this night ending with him dragging her by the waist into the elevators, pressing her up against the wall as he sucked at the pressure point on her neck. She would push him out the doors and down the hall to their room, her hands inside his suit jacket, running over his muscles, and he knew they would never make it to the bed. He allowed himself that moment, as his pants tightened, to think about what it would be like to hike her skirt up over her waist and slide into her against the door of their room. And then he took a breath. 

He leaned in behind her, chest pressed against her back, and rested his hand lightly at her hip. His mouth hovered at her ear, lips almost touching the skin there, and then whispered. 

“Oh, he definitely got the hint.”

He took a perverse amount of pleasure at her shiver. But then, Felicity yawned. She caught herself and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops! Sorry, I guess I’m more tired than I thought I was,” she said, her words slurring slightly. 

Oliver smiled at her and the moment was broken. That was probably for the best, actually, as they’d been toeing a dangerous line. Through the alcohol-induced haze, Oliver’s brain finally won out over his emotions and he scooted back, widening the distance between him and Felicity. 

“It’s fine. We should probably head up,” he murmured, not making eye contact. He threw some bills down on the table and made his way out of the booth, turning back to offer a hand to Felicity. She took it gratefully, but then dropped it as soon as she was standing. He allowed her to lead the way to the elevators, hoping that they hadn’t crossed a line tonight from which they would be unable to recover, and knowing that he was in for a long night of lying awake next to her in bed while he tried to keep a tight leash on his thoughts, feelings and desires.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: though this IS an Olicity story, this particular chapter has its fair share of Flommy. The Olicity is coming, we promise!

Tonight had been….well, tonight had been one of the scariest of her life so far. A week had passed since The Trip, which is how Felicity viewed it in her head. It had kinda been a big fucking deal in some ways, and really not at all in others. 

_Felicity stumbled into the darkened room ahead of Oliver, tripping a little over the threshold of the door. She was grateful when Oliver’s hand came to her hip to steady her. Well, grateful for half a second, until that hand started to feel like it was burning the skin under her skirt. Damn him and his effect on her body, which was especially pronounced in her inebriated state. Maybe downing an entire bottle of wine hadn’t been the best idea, she thought to herself as she eyed the solitary bed. Behind her, Oliver cleared his throat and removed his hand from her hip. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed._

_“Why don’t you, uh, wash up first?” he suggested, and she was absolutely certain that she had not heard that low, throaty tone in his voice ever before. She turned to look at him and gulped, her heart rate speeding up at the intense look in his now very dark blue eyes. She simply nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment._

_Moving through the room, she grabbed her toiletries and pajamas (and of course she had only brought thin sleep shorts and a camisole) before she headed to the bathroom. She made quick work of washing up, taking a few extra seconds to splash cold water on her face and neck. She tugged on her pajamas and cursed the skimpiness of the outfit. After a deep breath, she steeled herself and exited into the room._

_Oliver was standing with his back to her, looking out the window. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were tense. She cleared her throat softly and he turned towards her, his eyes going wide for a second before he carefully schooled his features._

_“It’s all yours,” she murmured, busying herself with pulling down the covers and arranging the pillows. “Umm, do you -” she motioned to the bed, silently asking him which side he preferred. She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but figured it didn’t hurt to ask._

_“I’ll take the side closest to the door,” he confirmed as he moved past the bed on his way to the bathroom, still speaking in that low, throaty tone from earlier. This was going to be an interesting night._

_Felicity crawled into bed and lay on her side, facing the window, her back to the bathroom and door. She heard Oliver leave the bathroom and she closed her eyes and focused on slowing her breathing, hoping he would assume she was asleep._

_A few moments later she felt the bed dip as Oliver climbed in, and she tensed involuntarily. For a while, neither of them moved, and only the sound of their breathing filled the space. Finally, she heard Oliver sigh and felt him shift to his side, and the next thing she knew his hand was grazing her back lightly, fingertips barely touching her through her tank top. She willed herself to relax, which resulted in her body shifting just a tiny bit towards him. She expected him to withdraw his hand, but in fact the opposite happened. He pressed his hand more completely against her back, not moving it, just resting there, as though touching her was comforting to him. As her body relaxed, her treacherous mind thought about how nice it felt to lie there, connected to him that way, and with those thoughts she drifted off to sleep._

_The pounding in her head woke her the next morning, and she became vaguely aware of pressure across her back. Opening her eyes slowly, she found that she had turned over during the night, and was now lying on her stomach, arms tucked up under the pillow, facing Oliver. He was still asleep, facing her on his side. His face was close to hers, so close that she could feel his breath against her lips, and his arm was splayed across her back. At the realization of their extremely intimate position, Felicity felt her heart rate pick up. She knew she had to move before Oliver woke up, or they were in for some serious awkwardness. She also knew that the second she moved, Oliver would be instantly awake. She debated her options and decided a rip off the bandaid approach was the best bet. So, with a deep breath, she quickly slid out of the bed and retreated to the bathroom, not looking back._

_Once safely behind the door, she turned on the shower and took a few deep breaths. As memories of the previous night flooded her brain, she felt her cheeks warm. She was surprised at her own boldness and flirtiness the night before, but was also confused about Oliver’s response. He had seemed to enjoy it, and flirted right back. What was he doing? He was in a relationship with Laurel. This wasn’t right, or fair. To anyone involved. As Felicity stepped into the shower, she decided that the best course of action was to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She was his EA, his IT girl, and his friend. That was it. That was her role, and she was determined to stay firmly in that box._

_With that in mind, Felicity finished her shower and dressed quickly. When she left the bathroom, she found that Oliver had ordered breakfast, which was laid out on the small table. The man in question was seated at the desk, on a phone call that sounded like QC business. He turned to look at her and she threw him a small smile before pouring herself a cup of coffee and picking up a muffin. When the call ended, Oliver went off to the bathroom to shower and dress, throwing a quick good morning at her. Upon his return Felicity was relieved to realize that he had seemingly come to the same decision she had, as he started discussing work immediately, with no reference to the previous night._

_When they returned to Starling City, the unspoken agreement that what had happened on the trip stayed on the trip was maintained. Business carried on as usual, and aside from catching him staring at her every now and again (okay, really like 15 times a day but who was counting) things seemed back to normal._

Which brought her back to tonight. She had been stupid. So stupid, to go looking into it on her own. But Digg was sick and Oliver was with Laurel and she had to do something. Unfortunately, that something had ended with her taken hostage by a revenge-seeking Count Vertigo, who Oliver (as the Arrow, of course) had to kill in order to save her. This, despite his vow to himself to try another way. He hadn’t killed since The Undertaking, and she was a bit uncomfortable with the knowledge that he had done so for her. She had also nearly been stabbed with the drug in the process, and Oliver had been shot (his “it was nothing” while staring at her had done little to ease her concern, and the butterflies at his declaration were not at all troubling. Nope.) 

So now, here she was. Sitting on the med table in the Foundry, Digg, Oliver and Tommy all hovering in concern, while Laurel sat in _her chair_ at _her_ computer desk, watching. Normally, it would bother her more that someone was in her space, but she was just really tired. And the ever-present tension that permeated the air when she, Oliver and Laurel were in the same space was suffocating her. 

“Guys,” she said with a sigh. “I’m fine. Really. Oliver is the one who got shot!” She gestured at him. “I just want to go home, take a bath, and crawl into my bed.” She moved to hop off the table, and all three men reached for her at the same time. She watched Laurel watching Oliver, and made a decision. Batting at their hands, she stood up on her own, and laid her own hand on Tommy’s arm. 

“Tommy, would you mind…?” she let her words drift off, and shut out Oliver’s glare. 

She knew he was worried, and she knew he had been about to offer to take her home. But his girlfriend was sitting less than 5 feet away, and despite what had happened the previous weekend, she knew she couldn’t cross that line with him. Her role was friend, and with Laurel right there it was just not at all appropriate for Oliver to leave with her. She could feel his frustration from where he stood behind her, and in another time or place she might have turned towards him instead of away. But this little dance had to end. It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. And so she was redrawing the line that had become so very blurred. 

Looking up at Tommy, she saw him watching her with a clear understanding of what she needed. Without his usual quick witted words, he simply nodded, and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. 

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured. And it took everything in her not to look back at Oliver as she allowed Tommy to lead her out. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Oliver watched them leave, his fists clenched at his sides, and he noted with not a small amount of frustration that this wasn’t the first time he had watched her walk away from him, with Tommy at her side. And he didn’t like it. At all. 

His mind flashed back to the night in the hotel, and how comfortable he had felt sharing a bed with her. He had slept better than he could remember sleeping in a while, and he had liked waking up to his arm around her. She, of course, hadn’t known he had woken up before her, because as he felt her slowly come to consciousness he had closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, better at faking sleep than she was. He had felt her retreat quickly, and had sensed the change in the air when she had come out of the bathroom. Not knowing what else to do, he had followed her lead and ignored what had transpired between them. But it hadn’t been far from his thoughts all week, and tonight had brought all those feelings rushing to the forefront. 

He had been at dinner with Laurel when the call came. When he had received the call from her phone and heard the Count’s voice, everything around him had stopped moving. His heart may have even stopped beating. His entire existence was focused on that phone. He was up and leaving the restaurant before the call was done, his heart in his throat. He knew fear, but the absolute terror that consumed him was a new, and extremely unpleasant, feeling. He had basically flown back to the Foundry, grabbing his gear before dashing over to QC. The sight of Felicity being held by that madman, set on revenge, with a syringe at her neck, had enraged him. Yes, he had killed him. And he would do it again and again and again. He would kill anyone who tried to hurt her. And he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been shot until she pointed it out. It hadn’t mattered. Nothing had mattered but her.

He hadn’t realized that Laurel had followed him to the Foundry until he returned with Felicity in tow. He had his arm around her waist as he guided her to safety, and onto the med table where he had meant to examine her for any injuries she wasn’t disclosing. But then Tommy and a recovering Digg were there, too, and Felicity was looking past him at Laurel and the air shifted. The connection to her, the moment of him saving her and her touching his shoulder and him telling her it was nothing, had been severed. And she had turned away from him and towards Tommy and it _stung_ , damn it. It hurt. She hadn’t even spared a glance back at him as she left. 

Suddenly, like a tidal wave crashing, it hit him. _He_ wanted to be the one she turned to. _He_ wanted to be the one to take her home, comfort her, make her feel safe. He wanted that. And he couldn’t have it. He had pushed her away, he had turned to someone else after The Undertaking. He had gone back to Laurel, and in doing so, he had ruined whatever it was that had been simmering beneath the surface between him and Felicity. And he didn’t know what to do about it. 

With a deep sigh, he turned towards Laurel. His girlfriend. He steeled himself for what he knew he would see in her eyes. He wasn’t wrong. She was appraising him coolly, her jaw set with tension. But when she met his eyes, her face softened into a combination of resignation and pity.

“You should clean up that shoulder and go home to bed,” she suggested, standing and gathering her things. He knew he should stop her, ask to stay, but….he didn’t really want to. And he was grateful that she wasn’t trying to have the conversation they both knew needed to happen. He just didn’t have it in him at that moment. So he simply nodded and let her leave. Digg bade his farewell a minute later and Oliver was alone. With his thoughts. Which were all about a certain blonde, and the man she had left with. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

When they got home, Felicity realized she was shaking. Not a lot, just a little. Just enough for her to notice when her keys jangled as she unlocked her door. Tommy didn't say anything, he just pushed the door open the rest of the way, took the keys and her purse from her and nudged her into the apartment. He turned the lights on and then shut and locked the door behind them. 

Felicity took a deep breath or two before turning to face him with a small smile planted firmly on her lips. "Thanks, Tommy. I appreciate the ride home."

"I wasn't going to let you drive yourself, Felicity. Not after the night you've had." His blue eyes were somber on hers. 

She shrugged a shoulder carelessly. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to do like I said back at the Foundry; take a bath and crawl into bed."

Tommy placed a hand on her shoulder and made her meet his eyes. "If you think I'm leaving you alone right now, you're crazy, Smoak."

His concern brought tears to her eyes almost instantly and she fought to blink them back. "I'm fine," she told him but her voice was small even to her own ears. 

"You are _not_ fine," Tommy told her. His hand dropped down her arm until he cupped her elbow. Then, he was steering her towards the sofa. "Sit. We're going to talk."

Felicity sat and folded her hands in her lap, twiddling her thumbs together. Tommy sat beside her, the warmth from his nearness an instant comfort, and he took one of her hands in his and held it. "Tell me what happened. All I heard from Dig when I stopped by to say hi was that the Count had grabbed you and Oliver went to face off with him."

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Felicity explained how the Count had grabbed her from one of the vaccination trucks. He stopped her there to ask why she was doing this and not Oliver or Dig. Dig, of course, was too sick to be out in the field and Oliver… 

"Oliver was with Laurel." His eyes hardened as he said it. 

Felicity nodded. "It turns out I was right, of course, but that didn't matter quite so much once the Count got his slimy hands on me." At Tommy's alarmed look she was hasty to reassure him. "No, no. He didn't… do anything. Not like that. I mean, his innuendo was pretty vile but he mostly just zip-tied me to a chair and made lots of threats. At one point he played with my ponytail which was pretty gross." She shuddered in remembrance. 

Tommy's eyes softened. "Then what?" he prodded gently. 

She went on to tell him how the Count had called Oliver using her cell, how Oliver had arrived and tried to bargain with the Count. But when he made a move to inject her with the lethal dose of Vertigo anyhow, Oliver hadn't hesitated to shoot the drug dealer with three arrows, propelling him out of the window. 

"Shit," Tommy breathed. "Are you okay? I mean, you didn't get hurt or anything, did you?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just a little… shaken up," she admitted. 

"C'mere," he said, holding his arms out. He pulled her into his warm embrace, one arm wrapped behind her back and his other hand cradling the back of her head as he held her. "I'm glad you're okay."

She drew in a shuddering breath and he drew her back so he could look at her. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?" he asked, his voice a little rough. 

Felicity thought about that for a moment. She knew he was asking if she wanted him to sleep on the couch or something but she couldn't help but think of a less _platonic_ arrangement. She almost laughed, in spite of herself, because the thought was so absurd. But was it? The way he was looking at her… 

"Tommy…" she began but she trailed off when she saw his eyes dip down to her lips. 

"Tell me not to, Felicity," he murmured, drawing closer to her, so close that his nose brushed her cheek. 

Her heart was pounding now but it had nothing to do with her near-death experience from earlier that night. She was startled by just how much she _wanted_ to kiss him. 

"I can't," she replied. The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Tommy's lips were upon hers. His arms tightened around her, pulling her against him and she let herself get dragged underneath by his kisses. 

If she were thinking clearly, she would recognize that hooking up with Tommy was a bad idea. Oliver would be so upset if he found out, which he would. But she was so tired of thinking. The fact was she was attracted to Oliver and she believed he was attracted to her too. Okay, maybe it wasn't just attraction. Maybe there were feelings, too. Now _there_ was a daunting thought. Still, it brought her to another fact: Oliver was in a relationship with Laurel. He had chosen to pursue that with her, to the detriment of his friendship with Tommy. 

Then there was the most important fact of all: she was tired of the whole thing. She was tired of dancing around her attraction to Oliver, she was tired of constantly putting her needs aside and she was tired of being alone. She could have been killed by the Count tonight and if that didn’t throw into sharp relief her true priorities in life, nothing would. She didn’t want to exist in the shadows anymore; she wanted to _live_. 

With that thought fresh in her mind, Felicity wrapped her arms around Tommy and gave herself fully to the kiss. She nibbled at his lips, let him stroke his tongue into her mouth and, _holy shit,_ that felt good. She began to squirm as arousal pulsed through her and Tommy's hands wandered from her back and her head down to the curve of her ass and his thumb brushed at the underside of her breast. She gasped into his mouth. 

Tommy pulled away and she saw that his pupils were blown. His mouth hung open a little, he was breathing hard. "Felicity, what do you want?" 

She wasn't stupid. She knew what he was asking. Felicity bit her lip as she nodded at him. "I want you, Tommy."

He licked his own lips as his fingers flexed on her hips. "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"You won't, Tommy. You're just… giving me some comfort."

He gave her a dry look and she smiled. 

"Friends with benefits, then?"

There was the Tommy Merlyn Grin she knew and loved. "That I can do, Ms. Smoak."

He stood from the couch and reached for her hand. She gave it to him and he pulled her up to her feet. He kept her hand, pulling her back towards her bedroom. 

"I'm gonna rock your world," he promised, his eyes darkening again as he pulled her close to him at the edge of her bed. 

"I'm counting on it, Merlyn," she returned. He kissed her again and from there, clothes began to disappear from their bodies. Felicity didn't even think to be shy. This was Tommy, he was her friend and she was _comfortable_ with him. Plus, the way he looked at her as though she were an underwear catalog model didn't hurt. 

For all the promising to rock her world, Tommy was very gentle with her and she knew it was because of what had happened with the Count. And somehow, that was just as good. The tender caresses, the light kisses to her skin, the way he let her set the pace… it was all perfect. Simply perfect. 

Felicity thought it was really quite the accomplishment that she only thought of Oliver once the entire time. 

\---------------------------------------

Oliver hit the punching bag again and winced. He had been going at it for hours, and by the damage to his knuckles, it just might be time to stop. He knew he had literally been trying to punch the thoughts of _her_ out of his head, and it hadn’t worked. At all. He turned to take a drink of water and was surprised to find Laurel standing halfway down the stairs, watching him. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts of Felicity, he hadn’t even heard her come in. That wasn’t good. 

For a long moment they just looked at each other. He broke the stare first, turning his body to the table and resting his palms on it.

“What time is it?” he asked, just to say something. He heard her finish descending the stairs and saw her approach him out of the corner of his eye, stopping a few feet away. She was wearing sweats and had her hair in a ponytail, her face free of her usual makeup. 

“Just after 6am. I couldn’t sleep.” 

He nodded. “Me neither.” 

Silence, again. When had they stopped knowing what to say to each other? After a very long few minutes, her quiet voice surprised him.

“You’re in love with her.” 

It wasn’t a question, or an accusation. Just a statement of fact. Oliver turned to look at this woman, whom he had loved for so long, and made a decision. He owed her the truth. So he nodded. 

“I am,” he confirmed. “I don’t know….I don’t know when it happened, Laurel. And I never meant to hurt you. It’s just - it’s different with her. I don’t even fully understand it. I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a long moment and Oliver was afraid to look at her, afraid to see what might be in her eyes. Then, she spoke. “I know. I don’t blame you. Not really. I knew things weren’t right between us. We got back together for the wrong reasons. And if I’m being honest with myself - and you - I think my heart is elsewhere, too.” 

He looked at her sharply and saw nothing but truth there. He nodded again.

“Tommy,” he said. 

This time it was her turn to nod. That was no surprise. She’d been in love with Tommy before the Undertaking. Before Oliver had gone over to her apartment and screwed everything up between two of his oldest friends. He’d been selfish and needy and a prick. All this time, he’d thought he’d left that part of himself behind on that damned island and it turns out that he hadn’t. Fuck. Well, what he could do now was make it right. For her, at least. 

“I know,” he murmured and she smiled at him a little. “I’ll always love you, Laurel.”

“Same here, Ollie.” She paused, and then laughed softly. “What a pair we make, huh?” He smiled in return. “So, the question now, is what are we going to do about it?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Did someone say smut?  
> -This chapter is a bit of a beast length-wise, but it just didn't make sense to cut it into two, so here we are!  
> -This is the last chapter. Short epilogue to follow tomorrow!

The pounding just. Wouldn’t. Stop. With a groan Felicity turned over in her bed and noticed that Tommy was still fast asleep next to her, the blanket slung low across his hips and her arm was draped across his chest. Ugh. What time was it even? And who the hell was banging on her door this early on a Saturday? 

She rolled herself over the edge of the bed and grabbed the nearest article of clothing, only noticing as she pulled it on that it was Tommy’s shirt. She stumbled to the door, grumbling under her breath about annoying neighbors, and flung it open. Her jaw dropped.

“Oliver?” 

He looked awful. He definitely hadn’t slept, his clothes were rumpled and his eyes were bloodshot. “What are you doing here?” 

He stepped into her apartment as she moved back to let him, and she closed the door behind him. Then, he opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

“Felicity? Who the hell is at the door at this - oh. Oliver. Hey.” 

Tommy came up behind her, his steps slowing as he took in who it was at the door. He laid a hand on Felicity’s shoulder, probably in a show of solidarity against the stone-faced man standing across from them. 

Felicity watched Oliver’s face as he looked back and forth between the two of them, taking in the shirt she wore and Tommy’s undone and hastily pulled on jeans. She knew the second the realization hit him about what had transpired, and she saw his face change. This was….well. This was an extremely scary version of his growly face. She almost took a step back at the force of the anger reflected in his eyes. She saw his hand clench into a fist as his eyes flicked over to Tommy. Uh oh. 

“What _exactly_ is going on here?” he snarled at them. Tommy quickly stepped in front of her, and she almost rolled her eyes at the obvious display of “whose is bigger” that was going on. 

“I don’t really think that’s any of your business, _Ollie_ ” Tommy’s voice was deep and low, a dangerous tone she couldn’t remember ever hearing from him before. She watched Oliver take a step forward, and knew now was the time to intervene. 

“Tommy,” she said softly, stepping in between them, her eyes never straying from Oliver’s. “Can you give us a minute?” After a long pause, she felt Tommy nod.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” He directed his words to her, but his gaze also never left Oliver. She saw Oliver flinch at the implication that she might need rescuing from him. 

As Tommy retreated back into the bedroom, closing the door to give them privacy, she turned to fully face Oliver, and saw as the anger had started to fade from his eyes. What replaced it, though, made her heart ache. She steeled herself against his obvious pain. 

“What do you want, Oliver?” Felicity asked quietly, wrapping her arms around her stomach. He just looked at her for a long moment, before his gaze flicked to her bedroom door. He swiped a hand across his jaw.

“I thought….you said….the two of you were just friends.” His eyes were still looking over her shoulder, and his voice was low and laced with - something. Damn him, he would _not_ make her feel guilty. She gave a shallow laugh.

“Yeah, well. We were. Until we weren’t. Why does it matter to you, anyways?” His eyes finally met hers again.

“You know why.” Was his almost whispered reply. She shook her head. 

“No, Oliver. I don’t. I don’t know what you’re doing here, at 7am, questioning me about who I spent my night with, when you have a _girlfriend_. Remember her? The woman you have spent half your life loving? The one you raced to save the night the Glades fell? You want to ask Laurel about how she spends her evenings that’s fine. But I am not your girlfriend, and you have no right to come here and demand answers from me.” He didn’t respond. He just turned away from her and stared at the wall, fists clenching and unclenching. She could feel her anger bubbling up inside her. Who did he think he was?

“Damnit, Oliver. You can’t DO this! I have spent the better part of a year dedicating my life, myself, to you and your cause. I have given you everything. And I dealt with the long looks, the just this side of appropriate touches, the meaningful words. And yeah. I had thoughts. And hopes. Of maybe, and potentially. And then you were with her and I _respected_ that and I tried to move on but you KEPT GOING. And it’s not fair! It’s NOT FAIR, Oliver. You can’t just-”

“I want it to be me!” he exploded, interrupting her. She reeled back, shocked, as he turned to her, eyes blazing. “I so badly wanted it to be me you turned to last night, me whose arm was around you, walking you out the door. I want it to be me. I want YOU. I lo-”

“NO!” she yelled. Yelled at him, as her stomach twisted painfully and something inside her broke a little. “No. You do NOT get to do this now, Oliver Queen. You do not get to come here and make all sorts of declarations because you’re jealous that there is another man in my bed. I am NOT the other woman. I am NOT anybody’s second choice, or backup option. No.” While it was true that, in the darkest hours of the night when she knew it was safe, she had allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to hear him say those words, to have him look at her and say he wanted her, she would be damned if this was how it happened. She wasn’t something he could play with, toss aside, and then stake his claim over when someone else showed interest. “No. Just... Get out, Oliver.” 

Felicity couldn’t look at him. Not when she knew she would see the pain in her heart reflected in his eyes. Oliver didn’t move. “If you care about me at all, if you feel the way you were about to say you do, you will leave. Because what I want from you right now, Oliver, what I _need_ from you right now, is space.” 

There was a long moment where neither of them moved. She wasn’t even sure if either of them was breathing. And finally, out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod slightly. Without a word he walked to the door, pulling it open. Only then did he pause and look back at her, waiting. She slowly looked up at him, and was surprised to see wetness pooling in his eyes.

“I know how I feel, Felicity. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you know it, too.” And with that, he was gone. 

Felicity put a hand to her mouth and stifled a sob as she felt her knees buckle under her. And then she was being pulled into a pair of strong arms and she turned her head into his chest as she allowed Tommy, stable, loyal, and above all always her friend Tommy, to comfort her as she cried. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Felicity took a deep breath and shifted her weight nervously as the elevator climbed to the executive floor. She really wasn’t prepared to face him yet, but it was Monday morning and the last thing Felicity would ever do was shirk her responsibilities. So here she was, feeling like she was about to enter the lion’s den. Her thoughts drifted back to two mornings prior.

_“We’re going to have to talk about this eventually, you know.” Tommy said from behind her. She was wrapped in his arms, lying back on him on her couch. He had been holding her and stroking her hair while she cried for….well, for a while. But her sobs had subsided and the tears had slowed and she had just been trying to block everything out for the last few minutes. Felicity sighed and shifted, moving to extract herself from his embrace. His arms tightened for a second and then loosened to release her. She sat up next to him._

_“I’m sorry. I’m sure this is exactly how you like to spend the morning after. With the woman you slept with crying in your arms over another man.” she gave a humorless laugh._

_“Felicity,” Tommy said gently, taking her hand in his. “We both knew what last night was. I adore you, and it was great, but neither of us had any expectations beyond comfort. You aren’t the only one whose heart belongs to someone else, remember?” He looked at her quickly, almost apologetically. “Not that I was thinking of someone else last night, because I wasn’t, I swear. Last night was….really nice. Really good. But it was just, one night. Between friends.”_

_Felicity gave a small smile, and wondered just when exactly they had taken to outright acknowledging her feelings for Oliver. Oh, hell. Who even cared now? Everything was a mess anyways._

_“I don’t know what to do.” Felicity moaned. “Where do I go from here?” Tommy shifted next to her, so that he was facing her fully._

_“You tell him how you feel. I mean, not right away. Let the man sweat a little. It’s the least he deserves.” They both smiled at that. “But he clearly feels the same way -”_

_“But what if he doesn’t?” Felicity interrupted. “What if he was just reacting to me being in danger, or to seeing me with you?”_

_“Jesus, Smoak. For a genius, you’re pretty obtuse. Hey!” he exclaimed as she smacked him on the arm. “I’m serious. Listen. We may not be especially close right now, but I know Oliver. And I’ve watched him with you for months now. I see how he is around you. I see how he looks at you. He never looked at Laurel, or anyone else, the way he looks at you. Like you hung the moon and the stars. Like you can do no wrong. He looks at you like….” Tommy trailed off, his eyes focused on the wall._

_“Like you look at Laurel?” Felicity supplied gently. He sighed in return, and pulled her into his shoulder. She leaned her head against him._

_“What a pair we make, huh?” Tommy said. She just smiled ruefully into his shoulder and squeezed his hand lightly._

The elevator dinged, signalling her arrival at her office. Well, here goes nothing.

She stepped out, unsurprised to find it empty, she usually arrived before Oliver. But she was surprised to see a coffee cup on her desk, and a slim vase holding a single calla lily, with a note card propped against it. Hesitantly, she approached her desk and picked up the card.

_Felicity,_  
I’m giving you what you asked for - I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’m working from my office at Verdant, and you can email me anything I need during the day. When you’re ready to talk, let me know. Any time, day or night. I’ll be there.  
-Oliver 

She sighed. She was relieved that he was giving her the space she had requested, but a part of her was disappointed that she wouldn’t see him. And yet another part of her couldn’t help but feel a little fluttery at his words. ‘I’ll do anything you ask of me.” “Any time, day or night, I’ll be there.” 

She sat down at her desk and opened her email. She may as well try to get some work done, even though she knew her thoughts would be consumed by deep blue eyes for the foreseeable future. 

***

It had been almost two weeks. Two weeks of working without him at QC, of carefully timing her arrival and departure from the Foundry to avoid seeing him. Two weeks where she arrived every single morning to a cup of coffee and a single fresh flower on her desk. It was unlike Oliver to be up and going so early in the morning, but he must have been to get in, drop those things on her desk and leave without her seeing him. Their email exchanges had been professional and polite, and she was still there every evening guiding him over the comms, but that was all. She was taking the space she had asked for, and he was giving it to her. She had also only seen Tommy in passing, and hadn’t seen Laurel at all. She preferred it that way, at the moment. She needed time to sort through all the feelings and thoughts swirling around in her heart and head. 

Digg had told her that Oliver and Laurel had broken up, and while she had assumed as much, it was good to hear confirmation. At least she knew that she wasn’t ruining a relationship if she decided to move forward with this. She was at the point now where she knew how she felt about him. And while she knew how he had said he felt about her, she wasn’t completely convinced that the depth of her feelings was reciprocated. It was a scary thought, to possibly give her heart to someone and get nothing in return. This was what she had been grappling with for the past few days. 

As she tried to slip unnoticed into the Foundry that evening, she caught sight of Tommy and Laurel sitting at the bar, heads bent close, speaking quietly. Tommy’s fingers lightly danced against Laurel’s on top of the bar, and his smile was soft. As if he could sense her watching, he looked up and caught her eyes. His smile widened briefly and he tipped his head at her. She returned the gesture, and then dashed off to the basement door, not wanting Laurel to see her. She really wasn’t ready for that. 

As she sat down at her desk and put on her comm link, she paused to see if she had any emotional response to seeing Tommy with Laurel. Nope. Nothing. Nothing but happiness for her friend, that is. She actually felt...at peace. The nervousness she had experienced entering the Foundry over the last few days was gone. Turning on her comms, she took a deep breath.

“Oliver?” she waited. After a burst of static she heard the roar of his bike.

“Yeah. I’m here.” And with that, their focus was on the op and their version of controlled chaos for the night began.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Oliver gripped the handles of his bike tightly, leaning into the turn. The op had been cut and dry, and he had been in and out with relative ease. As he headed back to the Foundry, he thought about finding it empty of her, again. Something tightened in his chest. He missed her. A lot.

Seeing her with Tommy had nearly destroyed him. He hadn’t known it could hurt that badly. But he had reacted so poorly to that, and he didn’t blame her for kicking him out. He didn’t blame her for anything. This was his mess, he had made it, and he was determined to clean it up. So as much as it was killing him, he was keeping his distance and giving her the space she had asked for. But damn it, it was hard. He knew he loved her, in a way he had never loved anyone else before. He couldn’t deny it anymore. It was a part of him. And he just wanted to show her that, convince her of it. He would spend the rest of his life convincing her, if she would let him. 

He was approaching Verdant when he heard her in his ear.

“Oliver?” her voice was quiet, and hesitant. Was she still at the Foundry? For the past two weeks, once he had issued his usual “on our way home”, she had signed off and that had been it for the night. This was - surprising. 

“Yeah. I’m here. Are you okay?” Was something wrong? He felt his heart rate start to pick up.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m just…” her voice trailed off and his heart clenched. He had no idea what was going on. He heard her take a deep breath. “I’m ready to talk.” At that, his stomach dropped and his heart soared. He felt butterflies and he almost lost control of the bike for a second as his focus narrowed to her voice. He didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified, so he settled on both. 

“I’ll be right there.” He increased his speed and made it back to their base in record time. 

He was grateful that Digg had decided to head straight home. They needed the privacy right now, he thought, as he bounded down the stairs. Whatever else happened that night, he was desperate to just _see_ her. So when he caught sight of her sitting at her desk, his heart lurched. He wanted to run across the room and pull her to him, but instead he slowed his steps, removing his hood as he approached her. He stopped a few feet away, and watched her turn her chair to face him.

“Hi.” His voice was gentle, but he tried to convey everything he felt into the one word. “I’ve missed you.” He watched her eyes widen and cursed himself. “I’m sorry, was that too much? I just -”

“No,” she shook her head softly. “It’s fine. I - I’ve missed you too.” He didn’t even realize he had taken a step closer until she put her hand up. “No, don’t. Please. I just….I have some things to say and I need you over there. Please.” He nodded and clenched his fists by his sides, to stop himself from reaching for her. And he waited.

“When I met you, when you came into my office with that ridiculous story and that little smile, I knew then that my life had changed forever. I just didn’t admit it to myself.” Her voice was soft and her gaze was unfocused, as if she was remembering. He smiled at the picture she was painting with her words, he too remembering that first encounter fondly. “I didn’t admit it to myself when I joined your crusade, telling myself it was for Walter, or it was to help people. But it wasn’t. At least not fully. It was for you.” He couldn’t breathe, as he listened to her. He couldn’t move. His entire existence was focused on her words. “It’s always been about you, for me. Even when I denied it. Even when you hurt me, or pushed me to the side.” Her breath hitched and his heart clenched, his fingers itching to touch her, to soothe the pain he had caused. “I’m tired of denying it, Oliver.” Her eyes shifted to his, and he saw that they were swimming with tears, uncertainty, and….something else. “I know how I feel. I know what I want. But I can’t give all of myself without knowing what I’m getting in return.”

He just stood there, staring at her dumbly. Was she saying…? Did she…? His brain was ordering him to speak, to say something. She was asking for reassurance and he couldn’t get himself to do anything other than stare at her. Because now, suddenly, he was terrified. This amazing, brilliant, kind, generous, _gorgeous_ person who was way too fucking good for him was basically baring her heart and soul to him, handing it over to him to do with what he pleased. He still couldn’t breathe.

“Oliver,” her voice was a whisper, snapping him out of his reverie as he saw a lone tear fall from her eye. “It’s your turn to say something,” she chided softly. 

“I don’t know what to say.” He watched her face fall and hurried to explain. “I mean,” he took one step towards her, and then another. “I mean. I don’t know how to put into words just how much I love you.” He reached her just as he said the last word, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her against his chest. “I love you, Felicity Smoak. I love you in a way that doesn’t make sense to me, because it’s everything. It’s all consuming. _You_ are everything. In a way that’s terrifying and exhilarating and...a million other words I can’t seem to find right now. But, if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life telling you, showing you, convincing you.”

“The rest of your life is a long time,” her words were muffled against his chest, and he laughed softly. 

“Not long enough,” he replied, pulling back a little to look into her eyes. “Felicity. I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” At her nod, he lowered his lips, slowly, agonizingly slowly, until there was just a breath between them. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and then her mouth was against his and all the air was suctioned out of the room. The kiss was soft, gentle, exploratory. But when he opened his mouth to deepen it he felt her hands on his chest, pushing lightly. He pulled back, concerned that he had gone too far too fast. 

“Felicity, I’m so-”

“No.” She shook her head, staying close to him. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his chest. He was confused. “No, don’t be sorry. I just...before _that_ went any further,” his eyebrows flew to his forehead at her implication, “I needed to say one more thing.” He waited, not moving. “I love you too, Oliver.”

And then the dam broke. 

Their lips slanted together and where the kiss they'd just had was tender and romantic, this was deep and bruising and passionate. Oliver dug his fingers into her hips as he felt her tongue caress his lower lip and lick into his mouth. She tasted amazing, and she fit perfectly against him. Arousal pulsed through him as she moved against him, her hips brushing against him. 

He wanted more, he _needed_ more but… 

Oliver pulled away, breathing hard. "Felicity. I want…"

She nodded quickly. "I want you too, Oliver."

"But not here."

Felicity looked around the Foundry. "Yeah, there's not much in the way of surfaces… I mean, there's the training mats. Or the med table. Or, ooh! The pillar!"

Oliver was assailed with mental imagery with each new location she mentioned. He could see them each of those places, falling on each other and seeking out their mutual pleasure. He wanted that, god help him he did, but this first time… 

"I need a bed. Felicity, I finally get to explore you the way I've been wanting to. I need a bed in order to do that properly," he murmured. He enjoyed the way her cheeks darkened with a blush. 

"Oh—Okay," she stuttered. "Okay, then where?" 

"I don't want to take you to the mansion. That doesn't really feel like home to me anymore and besides, I've brought Laurel there."

Felicity nodded, trailing a finger down the center of his chest and biting her lip. "And I don't think my apartment is a good idea, considering Tommy last week…"

Oliver grit his jaw. "Yeah." He thought quickly. "Wait. My dad always kept a penthouse in the city, for late nights. Well, probably for sleeping with his EA. I know QC still has access to it, they put up visiting investors there. We could go there."

Felicity's eyes twinkled with mirth. "You'd be carrying on a fine tradition, bringing _your_ EA there."

He stiffened. "Wait. No. I don't want to take my EA there." 

A crease appeared between her brows. "What? You're changing your mind?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, I'm saying I don't want you to be my EA. I'm letting you go, Ms. Smoak."

Now her brows furrowed. "Are you joking?"

"Nope. I'm firing you as my EA and I'm _hiring_ you as my Vice President of Information Technology." Now he grinned as he watched the realization wash over her face. 

"But wait, don't you need to run that past the board or something?" 

He shrugged. "They'll approve it. Your qualifications speak for themselves and you're practically running the company yourself as it is."

Felicity's blossoming smile caused his heart to swell. God, she was so beautiful. He'd been a fool to avoid her all this time. 

"Oh, Oliver. Thank you," she said, sniffling a little as her eyes glistened with emotion. 

"Now, I won't be taking my EA to the penthouse. But can I take my VP?" He quirked an eyebrow at her as he tightened his arms around her. 

She nodded rapidly. "Definitely. Please do."

***

After changing out of his leathers and into a pair of jeans and a soft henley, Oliver wasted no time whisking her out of the Foundry. Apparently, now that they were together, he wasn't interested in wasting any more time than he had to. Felicity couldn't blame him. And she didn't quite trust their luck and this city not to fall to pieces if they gave either half the chance to do so. 

Felicity's mini was parked in the lot but Oliver said his Ducati would be quicker. She didn't protest (too much) when he handed her the spare helmet. And she had to admit she loved the way he felt, with her pressed up against his back as he negotiated through traffic. Her thighs squeezed his hips and her fingers dug into his torso. 

They reached the apartment complex within minutes and Oliver parked the bike in the garage. With a quick flash of his credentials to the doorman, Oliver guided her to the elevator that sped them up to the penthouse apartment. They kept their hands off of each other; barely. Felicity knew if she touched him right now, she might not want to stop and she wanted to enjoy herself in privacy. 

The penthouse was amazing but Felicity didn't have much time to notice anything beyond polished marble floors and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city before Oliver dragged her down a short hallway towards the bedroom. 

"Someone's feeling a little impatient," she murmured as he pulled her into a spacious room with an enormous bed. 

"You have _no_ idea," he growled. But instead of the quick and aggressive assault she expected, he pulled her lightly into his arms and smiled warmly down at her. His eyes were as light as she'd ever seen them. 

Oliver leaned down towards her and gently rubbed his nose against hers before she felt the firm press of his lips. After a moment, he increased the pressure of the kiss and she leaned into him, sighing with relief. They each took their time, sipping at each other’s mouths, until he finally slipped his tongue along her bottom lip. Felicity hummed, nails scratching down his chest towards the waistband of his pants as she opened her mouth to his.

His tongue thrust into her mouth, filling her senses with the taste of him. He tasted unlike any other guy she’d ever kissed before. Oliver was such a physical man and he did everything with gusto— including kissing. His fingers were dancing over the buttons of her blouse, fumbling rather adorably, before he growled into her mouth and yanked the fabric apart, the buttons scattering across the carpet of the bedroom. He pushed at the remains of the blouse as she wriggled her shoulders so that it finally fluttered to the floor behind her. Instantly, he filled his hands with her breasts, thumbing her nipples through the thin cotton of her bra. Felicity moaned and pressed her hand against the front of his jeans, making him shudder in a most delicious way. She thrilled at that, that she could wring that kind of reaction out of him.

Oliver reached for the button of her skirt and managed to pry it open. He didn't push the skirt down right away, choosing instead to fit his hands down the back of her skirt, palming her ass and pulling her tighter against him.

“Oliver,” she said in a low voice. “I want you.”

He grinned at her and there was nothing innocent in this expression. Oliver began to slowly lower the zip at the back of her skirt and Felicity watched breathlessly as he slowly peeled the skintight skirt down over her hips, revealing her skin inch by tortuous inch. Then, he moved forward, urging her backwards until her knees hit the back of the bed. She sat automatically and Oliver smiled, kneeling before her. He continued to pull the skirt down, pressing open mouthed kisses to her hip, her thighs, her knees... clear down to her ankles which he lifted as he drew the skirt finally off. Felicity felt flushed and unbelievably aroused. 

Oliver remained before her, seemingly transfixed by the sight of her in her simple white cotton underwear. His fingers brushed along the tops of her thighs almost reverently and as she watched him, Felicity thought about how this was the first time he’d really seen her like this. She should be feeling self conscious but with the way he was looking at her, she couldn't. Oliver very clearly liked what he saw. 

As his fingers lingered around the waistband of her underwear, Felicity could almost guess what he was thinking of doing next. She wanted to take control, throw him a bit off balance. Make that stubbled jaw of his fall open a bit. Reaching behind her, Felicity flicked the catch on her bra and then drew the garment down and off her arms. She was rewarded with Oliver making just the face she’d hoped he would. He stared up at her with something akin to awe. Grinning back at him, she crooked a finger, beckoning him up to her. 

Oliver didn’t need any more invitation than that. He moved up her body swiftly, cupping her breasts with his eager hands as he pushed her backwards on the bed. She scooted up and he followed her, predatory as a jungle cat, his eyes dark with desire.

He hovered over her, just gazing at her form for a long moment. "Felicity," he breathed reverently, "I never thought-- I didn't think I'd ever have this chance." 

She was about to form a reply when his mouth descended on her breast and all thoughts immediately swirled out of her head. She became solely aware of the warmth of his mouth on her flesh, of his tongue swirling, so purposefully around her nipple as he sucked ever so gently. The pulling sensation arrowed straight to her core, inflaming her even more. 

Felicity's hips came up off the mattress, desperately trying to make contact with him. She succeeded in brushing against the front of his jeans, barely grazing his hardening length as she did so. Oliver shuddered and groaned, bucking his hips down to hers and for one glorious moment, she felt the perfect friction right where she needed it. 

Then, he was pulling away and she whimpered at the lost of his body over hers. Oliver chuckled fondly. “I can’t very well do what I’d like to do with these jeans in the way,” he pointed out as he stood up next to the bed. Quickly, he yanked the henley off, displaying those scars and tattoos and muscles that she enjoyed looking at so much.

“Oh yeah?” she said, her voice breathy. Felicity pushed up on her elbows to watch him pull down his zip and begin to push his jeans from his hips. “What would you like to do, then?”

She nearly forgot to listen for his reply when she caught sight of his erection. So, no boxer briefs then. And… wow. She swallowed reflexively and tore her eyes away to meet his. He was smirking at her. _Of course_.

“Oh, Felicity,” he murmured, kneeling again beside her on the bed. “I want to do _everything_. But before I get distracted by anything else, I need to see what you taste like.” 

All she could do was make a strangled noise of pure want as he then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear and began to tug them down her legs. She shifted, making it a little easier for him to draw the garment off. Then he was back, nudging her legs apart, placing delicate kisses to her knees, and settling down between them. Oliver rested his chest between her knees and used his hands to spread her thighs apart even more. Felicity didn’t even have a chance to feel self-conscious about her exposed position with all the anticipation and desire coursing through her. 

“You're amazing,” he was murmuring, his thumbs running lightly along her labia. “You’re wet already and that’s all for me, isn’t it? You want this and you want me, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Oliver. Please,” she moaned, hoping to keep the desperation out of her voice. She failed quite miserably.

“All for you,” he said just before he leaned forward and ran his tongue between her folds. She cried out from pure sensation, fisting her hands in the comforter as she arched her back. Oliver continued his assault, his tongue doing things she hadn’t even been able to dream of, and she’d been able to dream of quite a bit. He established a slow, exploratory rhythm and just as she was getting adjusted to that, he suddenly concentrated his attentions on the tiny bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds and she felt a finger press inside of her. 

Felicity cried out again, trying to thrust her hips towards him but he held her down with one strong hand placed on her hip. The movements of his finger matched those of his tongue as he sped up. He added another finger, and then another, stretching her. But it was still not enough. Felicity wanted more, and harder, and faster and deeper and she didn’t realize that she was vocalizing this until he chuckled again, murmuring, “Patience, Felicity.” 

“Fuck patience,” she gasped as his fingers found a spot within her that she hadn’t even been sure existed. She felt all her muscles quiver, clench and relax convulsively as he stroked determinedly. 

“Let go,” he ordered, his voice rough with arousal. “Let yourself come for me, Felicity.”

She tried to hold the sizzling along her spine at bay as she writhed underneath him, pulling and grabbing at the comforter uselessly. It was too much; she was feeling _too much_. The building pressure was intense and unbearable and she felt herself weakening under the onslaught. When Oliver wrapped his lips around her clit and pulled the sensitized nub into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth as he pumped his fingers into her body, she cried out his name, arching her back as the heat and tightness spilled out of her. The ripples from her orgasm pulsed through her, over and over again and Felicity was helpless to do anything but ride out the waves of what was surely the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. 

He eased her back down, slowing his fingers to gentle strokes and his tongue moved languorously, soothing her firing nerves until she finally stopped quaking. When she’d caught her breath and finally had her wits about her again, Felicity looked down to see Oliver with his head pillowed on her thigh, tracing circles absently on her hip and smiling at her. She raised an eyebrow and grinned at him. 

“You look pretty proud of yourself,” she said, her voice still husky. 

“I know. I am,” he replied simply. “Felicity, that was incredible.”

“You think that was incredible? How do you think I felt?” she cried, laughing. 

“I think you felt unspeakable pleasure,” he answered and on anyone else that would have sounded insufferably smug. Somehow, on him, it was working. She flushed, feeling her arousal build back up again. “Do you know what you looked like, as you came undone for me?”

She shook her head, biting her lip as he moved up her body, his eyes dark and intent. 

"You were gorgeous, your body moving and trembling and the moans you were making… God. I was doing that, I was making you feel that way and it felt pretty fucking fantastic. And you taste amazing. I might become addicted," he added with a filthy leer. 

"Guh," was all she could say.

“Do you understand now, Felicity?” he asked and his eyes were searching and vulnerable. "How much I want you?"

She nodded. “I understand, Oliver,” she assured him. “I want you too.”

“You’re sure, Felicity?” His eyes were serious on hers, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he cupped her face. “There’s no going back from this for me. I’m a possessive asshole and I won’t share you with anyone.”

She smiled then, so widely it felt like her face might crack in two. A tear slipped out of her eye and he caught it on a fingertip, brushing it away. “I’m sure, Oliver. I’ve been sure for ages.”

"And Tommy?" She could see the vulnerability in his eyes and took pity on him. 

"We're just friends. He's in love with Laurel. I promise, you're the only one for me. You're the only one I've wanted all this time."

“Trust me,” he murmured as he bent to kiss along her jaw. “I’ve wanted this too, for a very, very long time.”

Felicity was about to reply but then his lips found a spot just underneath her ear and her voice died in her throat, a groan escaping her lips instead. His lips pressed and pulled at the sensitive spot, his tongue tasting and his teeth grazing and she hadn’t even known that this spot was a weakness for her until just now. She grabbed at his considerable biceps, her fingers digging into his skin for a moment before she caught some of her wits and moved her hands down his arms, over his hips and down to where she wanted to explore him the most. As soon as her fingers grazed his cock, he stilled and gasped into her ear. 

“Felicity,” he breathed, his voice shaking a little. He’d been playing it so calm since bringing her to that magnificent orgasm that she hadn’t realised that he was really just hanging onto a thread of control. Feeling a surge of power at this realization, she wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed, moving her hand just so. 

His control snapped, and spectacularly so. A growl erupted from his chest as he grabbed her arms and moved swiftly between her legs. “I need-- I want... in. Oh, please let me in, Felicity,” he gasped, lowering his forehead to hers. 

“Yes, Oliver,” she agreed. “Now.”

Oliver pushed off her briefly, reaching for his jeans which lay on the bed next to them. He pulled a condom out of the pocket and she watched, enthralled, as he rolled it onto his impressive erection. God, she wanted him so much. She wriggled a little on top of the comforter, trying to find a little friction.

He took his cock in his hand and guided himself into her, clearly trying to go slowly and allow her time to adjust to his size and girth. He was shaking though and Felicity could see the sweat standing out on his skin. She took pity on him and, wrapping her legs around his hips, shifted her hips and pushed up so that he was completely sheathed within her. 

“Felicity!” he cried out, and he bit down briefly on her shoulder as he tensed, trying to regain his self-control. “Just... wait. Don’t move.”

Instead of grinding her hips against him as she really wanted to do, Felicity stroked his back soothingly with her hands and planted soft kisses on his shoulders. She could feel his chest expanding and contracting as he took deep breaths. A moment later, his hips moved. He withdrew almost all the way before quickly thrusting back in, making her squeak. He pulled his forehead off hers and gave her a leering grin as he did it again; harder. She fought the urge to shut her eyes, not wanting to miss a moment. 

His strokes were measured and purposeful; he’d found his control once again and was delighting in using it against her. Each push and pull of his body in and out of hers dragged her further under his thrall until time lost all meaning. He touched his forehead to hers again. 

"I love seeing you here, laid out beneath me, your hair spread over the pillow and your cheeks pink, your lips red…" he told her, gasping a little. Her own arousal ratcheted up as he spoke and she could feel his lust and need and love in the way he looked at her when he lifted his head and met her eyes. 

"I can't even— _ooh_ — tell you what you look like other than completely perfect," she replied, groaning. 

Oliver answered her groan with one of his own. “Oh, Felicity. It’s so much. I never thought—” He pulled back and then crashed his lips down onto hers, devouring her with lips and tongue and teeth and Felicity could feel tears pricking at her eyes again at his obvious rush of emotion.

As need spiraled in them both, Oliver picked up the pace. He shortened his strokes, thrusting hard and fast now and she murmured encouragement in his ear, pausing to nibble on the soft lobe or to moan when he would hit that amazing spot within her. His jaw was clenched and he let go of all his control as they got lost in the sensation of moving together. They raced towards completion together, calling out encouragements and urging each other forward. He reached between them to work his fingers against her clit in time with his quickening thrusts. Felicity keened and arched her back, digging her nails into him, causing him to hiss and pound harder. 

With a muffled shout, Oliver tensed over her, burying his head into her shoulder and grunting as he spilled his seed. Feeling him lose utter control and knowing that it was all for her was Felicity undoing and she followed directly after him, clenching and crying out his name. Her existence was narrowed for countless minutes and all she was aware of was the combined sounds of their spent breathing and the feeling of his arms as they wrapped around her and pulled her to his side. 

Her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, the long day finally taking its toll. Oliver seemed to sense her reluctance to drift off, however. “Shh,” he soothed. “Sleep for now. We’ll talk later. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Felicity wanted to protest, she knew she had things she wanted to say but right now exhaustion was winning as it dragged her down into sweet, restful, oblivion. 

***

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” a voice called softly. 

She blinked her eyes open and saw Oliver sitting next to her, holding a tray. It was loaded down with cups of water, toast and fruit. “I thought you might like a bite to eat,” he offered. 

He looked so earnest and eager to please that Felicity couldn’t help but chuckle as she sat up against the pillows and allowed him to set the tray over her lap. “Thank you,” she said. “I am a little hungry, to be honest.”

She picked up a triangle of toast and began to munch on a corner. She noticed him watching her a little enviously and grinned. “Help yourself,” she told him. 

They ate together, sipping water and nibbling at the fruit. Not much was said but the silence wasn’t awkward. However, as she finished her water, she began to feel a little uncomfortable about her conspicuous lack of clothing. Oliver wore a dark red robe but all she had was a thin sheet that she awkwardly tried to keep pressed to her chest. Oliver must have read her mind because with only a cheeky smile in her direction, he bent over the side of the bed and retrieved his shirt, holding it out to her. She gratefully slipped it on and resumed eating, still mildly shocked that Oliver Queen had brought her breakfast in bed. With a contented sigh, she thought how nice it would be to get used to this.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! A short epilogue to wrap things up! Thanks for reading, and for the amazing response to this!

It had been three weeks. Three pretty spectacular weeks since that _really fucking spectacular night_. Oliver, true to his word, had gone out of his way to show her his feelings were genuine, and deep. And Felicity had been surprised to find that, with her at least, Oliver was a huge teddy bear. A huge, PDA-loving teddy bear, she thought with a blush.

As she entered Verdant to head downstairs for the evening, her eyes caught on the two men leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation. She hadn’t seen much of Tommy over the past few weeks. Her time had really been monopolized by Oliver, who, she knew, was still a little raw about her and Tommy’s night together. Meanwhile, she was aware that Tommy and Laurel had also been working on reconciliation. She was so happy for him, but had been caught in a few moments of melancholy that their friendship seemed to take a hit.

As if he could sense her presence (maybe he could, actually), Oliver looked up and caught her eye. He smiled, wide, and tilted his head to her. She saw Tommy turn to look at her as well, his smile matching Oliver’s. She made her way to the duo, sliding in to nestle next to Oliver as he reached his arm out and around her waist, hand settling on her hip where it stroked lightly. The hold was just a tad possessive, she knew, and she allowed it because of who his companion was. She met his gaze with a question in her eyes. Oliver and Tommy hadn’t exactly been able to rekindle their friendship over the past few weeks, despite her encouragement. Oliver cleared his throat.

“Tommy and I were just discussing the idea of….uh….” he trailed off, his eyebrows crinkled in what she had come to recognize as uncertainty. 

“A double date!” Tommy supplied enthusiastically. “The two of you, me and Laurel. I mean sure, it will be a bit awkward, what with the musical partners -” Tommy’s grin only widened at the dark look Oliver threw him, “BUT, we have been friends for too long to let this weirdness go on any longer. So, what do you think?” the question was directed at her. 

Felicity moved her eyes between the two men, taking in Oliver’s shifting eyes and Tommy’s slowly dimming smile. She sighed, and then squeezed the hand that was on her hip while throwing a small smile at Tommy. 

“Sounds like a great idea! Why don’t you let us talk about it a bit and we’ll let you know when a good time is.” 

“Great!” Tommy clapped his hands together. “I’ll let you guys get to it then, and we’ll talk….later.” With a little salute he made his way across the floor and up to the office.

She turned in to face Oliver, as his other arm came around her so that she was now enclosed between his arms. She leaned back slightly so that she could look him in the eye.

“A double date! That will be...fun!” She said with overdone enthusiasm. He grimaced.

“Fun isn’t exactly the word I had in mind. But - I do think it’s a good idea. I miss Tommy. And I know you two are,” he paused, as if looking for a word that he wouldn’t choke on, “close.” 

She smiled as she trailed a finger down the lapel of his jacket, and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“It’s very sweet that you’re willing to do this. Not just for me, but for Tommy. I’m sure it means a lot to him. I know it does to me.” She tugged a little on his neck as she rose on tiptoes. He got the idea fast and lowered his head to capture her lips in a brief, but deep, kiss. When she pulled back, a little breathless, she felt a swell of pride at the slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Come on,” she linked her hand with his and pulled him in the direction of the basement door. “Let’s go save the city from some bad guys.” He huffed out a laugh and tugged on her hand, pulling her back to him for another, longer, kiss. This time when they parted they were both breathless and dazed. He grinned at her.

“As long as we’re doing it together.”

She grinned back. That was exactly how she planned to do things for a very long time. Together.


End file.
